Seduced by Stratton (The English Brothers Book 4) (25 page)

Val didn’t know what the future held for them, but they had plenty of time to figure it out together, and that’s all that mattered to her: that their immediate futures held each other.

He came up behind her and gently put his arms around her waist. Val leaned her head to the side to give him better access to her neck, and he dropped his lips to her warm skin, lingering there. She closed her eyes, resting against him as his warm breath fanned her throat, making goose bumps rise all over her body as heat raced from where his lips touched to her belly, which fluttered.

“Stratton,” she whispered, “I don’t want to watch a movie.”

He nuzzled her neck before turning her gently around.

“What do you want to do?”

She bit her bottom lip, gathering her courage as her breasts pushed into his chest with every breath. “I want you to make love to me.”

He sucked in a tight, quick breath, and she watched his eyes dilate from blue to almost black as he gazed at her.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, sliding her hands up his sweater and flattening them against his chest. She could feel the pounding of his heart, and knowing he was nervous, too, gave her the confidence to say what she wanted to say.

“I’ve wanted you since that night at Mulligan’s. So many months ago.” She licked her lips and grinned. “I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked into the lobby at English & Sons … when I saw you waiting for me in front of the Ritz, when our hands touched in the popcorn, when you danced with Mrs. Conway. When you kissed me in the park, when I slammed into you on the sidewalk holding a cupcake box, when I read you the Otway letter. When I woke up beside you, all the days that I missed you, when you walked into my family dinner and told me you loved me. When I came home to the lilies, when you picked me up tonight. And right now. Right now I want you most of all.”

“I love you,” he whispered, “my auspicious beginning.”

“I’ll say it back soon,” she promised, smiling tenderly at him, as she moved her hands to his face to cup his cheeks.

He nodded, grinning back at her. “When you’re ready. No sooner.”

And because he was so sweet about it, so understanding and relaxed, she almost said it right then. She already knew the words were true, but before she could say anything, he took her hand and led her to his bedroom.

They walked down the polished wood floor of a dark hallway, stopping at the second door on the left. Before he turned the knob, he brought her hand to his lips and found her eyes in the dim light.

“I’ve wanted you since that night at Mulligan’s too. When Alex called me and told me I had to meet with you about your aunt’s studio, I told him no. I knew—
I knew
—if I saw you again, I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from falling.” He bit his bottom lip, then slowly released it. “And I did. Every word you said was like magic in my ears. Like you spoke my language. Like you understood me, and I understood you. I couldn’t stay away, Val. I won’t ever be able to stay away.”

She placed her hand over his, twisting gently to open the door.

***

Stratton had never had a woman in the bedroom of this apartment before, which meant that regardless of who he and Val had been with before each other, this space now belonged solely to them. There were no ghosts of former lovers joining them tonight, and because she meant so much to him, he was profoundly grateful for that.

Though his body craved her touch and his fingers trembled with longing to learn hers, he reminded himself to go as slow as he could. His biggest fear was that after going so long without sex, fast was the only speed his body would allow.

He took her wineglass, placing it on his bureau without dropping her other hand.

“Should I turn on the light?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

He took a step toward her. “So . . .”

“Do you feel as nervous as I do?” she blurted out breathlessly.

“Yes!” he gasped. “But I don’t know why. I want to be with you, Val. Jesus, I’m
ready
to be with you, but I’m . . .”

“You’re what?’ she asked, taking a step closer to him as if to verify his condition, then licking her lips when he pressed his erection against her. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and her breasts pressed into him with every breath, her puckered nipples grazing his chest through her thin blouse.

“It’s been a while.”

“For me too.”

“How long for you?” he asked, reaching for her other hand and lacing their fingers together.

“Over a year,” she whispered, her eyes deep and dark in the dim bedroom as they gazed up at him.

“Almost two,” he confessed.

“I remember what to do,” she said, and he heard the humor in her voice.

“Me too,” he said. “But I don’t know if I can go slow.”

“I never asked to go slow,” she murmured.

“I want it to be good,” he said, breathing heavier, “for you.”

“Of course it’ll be good,” she said gently. “Are you worried it won’t be?”

Never in his whole life had he wanted for sex with a woman to be so perfect. If she didn’t enjoy it and walked away from him—

“Stratton?”

“No,” he said, pushing past his fears, looking into the beautiful brown eyes in her heart-shaped face. “I’m not worried.”

“Neither am I,” she said with soft confidence, leaning into him.

He loosened his fingers so he could run his hands up her arms. Sluicing over her shoulders simultaneously, finally resting on her throat, which he cupped, his thumbs stroking the base of her law lightly. 

“My heart is yours, Val,” he murmured, leaning down until his lips were a breath away from hers. “My body too.”

“Stratton,” she whimpered softly, leaning forward until their lips touched.

Hers were soft and pliant, and the moment they touched every ounce of awkwardness, of worry, of fear, fled Stratton’s mind, and he was overwhelmed with devotion, passion, gratitude for the woman he held in his arms. He slid his hands beneath her blouse as he kissed her, flattening his palms against the hot skin of her back, feeling the smoothness of her skin under the silk. She raised her arms, and he only broke contact with her mouth for a moment as he pulled the delicate fabric over her head.

Her hands grappled with the hem of his sweater, pushing it up, and she gasped into his mouth as her palms trailed over the hard ripples of muscle in his stomach and chest. Her hands stilled, then slid back down, and she leaned back from him, panting.

Her lips were bee-stung and glistening as she gestured to his chest. “I want to see you. Take off your sweater.”

He complied immediately, adding his T-shirt to the growing pile on the floor.

Val’s mouth dropped open as she stepped forward, transfixed by his sculpted chest.

“I thought . . . I mean, I
thought
. . .” she said breathlessly, reaching out tentatively to touch the hard, toned muscles. Finally her trembling fingers relaxed against his skin, and she traced each ridge before looking up at him in wonder. “Oh, my God. I’ve never seen anything like you up close. You’re so beautiful.”

“
You’re
so beautiful,” he said, dropping his eyes to her breasts, which were only covered by the thin, black lace of her bra.

She reached behind and unclasped her bra. She let the straps fall from her shoulders, but kept her elbows bent against her sides so her breasts were still covered.

Holding her eyes, Stratton reached forward and gently tugged at the straps. She bit her bottom lip with uncertainty as she straightened her arms and let the flimsy lace fall to the ground with a light whoosh.

“Jesus, Val,” he groaned.

Her breasts were big—full and round, with dark centers and brown, puckered nipples straining for attention. As he stared at her, trying to remember how to breathe, she reached for his hand and placed his palm gently over her breast. “Touch me.”

He dipped his head to capture her lips with his, kissing her frantically as his palm molded to her skin, his thumb and forefinger seeking the hardened nub of her nipple and rolling it gently. His other hand slipped to the waistband of her jeans and popped open the button. He was rock hard and aching for her, and she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in going slow. With one hand, he unzipped her pants, shoving at her waist as she reached for his belt buckle. She unbuckled and unbuttoned him quickly, then released his lips and took a step back from him. In one smooth move, she slid her jeans and panties to the floor and kicked them off. With his eyes glued on her soft, curvy, insanely sexy body, he did the same until he was standing naked in front of her too.

He watched, his heart racing, as she stared at the velvet steel of his erection for a long moment before letting her eyes skim back up his body.

“Okay,” she murmured, crawling onto his bed and kneeling in the center.

“I have condoms,” he said, quickly. “Let me—”

She shook her head, holding out her hand. He took it, climbing onto the bed to kneel before her.

“I’m on the pill. And since neither of us has been with anyone else in a year . . . I think we’re okay.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, gently pushing her hair off her shoulders and cupping her face lovingly. “I—I’ve never . . .”

“Had sex without a condom?”

He shook his head.

“Neither have I,” she admitted softly, reaching up to entwine her arms around his neck as he kissed her again. Her voice was soft against his lips. “But I want it to be you.”

“Val . . .” he murmured, overcome with emotion, by the gift she was giving him.

She silenced him with a kiss. Her tongue gliding against his made shivers of pleasure run down his spine, and he leaned forward to lower her onto her back. Lying beside her, he ran his lips across her throat, down her chest, pausing to cup her breast in his hand before taking her nipple into his mouth. He sucked greedily, running his tongue over the throbbing bud while his other hand massaged and molded the other breast gently. His erection strained against her hip, and he knew he needed to move quickly, but he didn’t want to miss out on tasting her, touching her. Even though he knew they’d have more time later, this was their first time, the time that would be emblazoned on his brain, and he wanted to remember every detail.

“Stratton,” she moaned, arching off the bed as he abandoned one nipple to love the other. Her skin was warm and smooth, and he was surrounded by the smell of talc and coconut, which made him swell against her hip again.

“Val, I want this to be good for you,” he said, “but I need you. I want you so much. I promise to go slow next time.”

“I want you too,
mi amore
. I’m ready for you. Don’t wait.”

He rolled over onto her, amazed he hadn’t already come. He was so hard and his whole body throbbed like crazy, desperate to be buried inside of her.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

She nodded, drawing his head down for a kiss as he positioned himself at the entrance of her sex. He hesitated for just a moment, waiting for some sign from her. Tilting her hips up just a little in welcome, he sighed into her mouth with relief and slid the entirety of his straining flesh into her waiting heat.

His eyes fluttered closed, and through the sound of rushing blood in his ears, he heard a long, low groan that sounded a little like his own voice.

He’d never experienced the skin-to-skin sensation of a woman’s bare, slick muscles squeezing him, the way God intended for a man to take a woman. He groaned again, his jaw slackening as he held himself still for a moment, swelling inside of her, forcing a control he didn’t know he had, desperate to remember every second of their lovemaking.

“Ohhhhh,” she gasped, her fingers in his hair tightening and flexing. “Again, Stratton . . .”

His name on her lips made him open his eyes, and he gazed down at her. Her eyes were clenched tightly, her top lip pulled into her mouth, and he could hear her panting softly. Lying beneath him, her body joined to his so intimately, her face a mask of pain and pleasure, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And she was his. For some unknown reason, she’d given him another chance. She’d chosen him. His heart swelled with gratitude and love for her, giving him the strength to hold back his climax for a few more minutes. She wanted more, she wanted again, and whatever Val wanted was what Stratton needed to give. He pulled his hips back, then buried himself inside of her to the hilt, groaning low in his throat from the thrill of her body sucking his rigid flesh forward.

“More,” she whimpered, her pelvis rising to meet his with every deep thrust.

He pushed into the tight, wet heaven of her body twice more, forcing himself not to come through sheer will, a sweat breaking out all over his body as he concentrated on her face. She bit her lower lip, and her eyes were closed but expressive. Her breathing was quick and shallow, and the sounds she made were blowing his mind.

“Stratton,” she half-moaned, half-whimpered, her fingers grazing the skin of his neck and making him shiver. “Pleeeeeeease.”

“Open your eyes,” he panted.